Just an Ordinary Crime Scene
by Grey-EyedGirl
Summary: Catherine and Grissom may be heading to a "more than friends" stage, but when something goes wrong at a crime scene, will either get the chance to tell the other how they feel... before it's too late? Wow, that was a crap summary. Hehe, please R&R anyway.
1. Chapter 1

#

**I'm baaaaaack! I am officially done with high school now, and so my free time just got wide open. Prepare yourself for much more Grillows, because I probably have about 5 stories started that I never had time to expand or work on. **

**Anyway, this one was hard to make a summary for, and I apologize for the terrible one I gave, but I really wanted to do a more drama based story, and this is what spawned from that. **

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#"Nick, Greg, you've got a 459 at the Aria, and Cath we have a 419 in Eastern Las Vegas." Grissom declared, handing each assignment to their respective teams.

"Yay," Nick mustered unenthusiastically, taking his assignment and grudgingly heading out the door, Greg close behind.

Grissom walked over to Catherine, who was adding cream and sugar to her coffee. "Are you ready to head out?" He asked, leaning ever so slightly over her shoulder, causing his breath to hit the back of her neck, and her to jump slightly, in part because he had startled her, but mostly from the sensation of his lips so close to her body. She turned, taking the stirring stick out of her coffee, bringing it to her mouth as she absentmindedly sucked off the remaining foam.

"Sure," she replied, tossing the stick in the trash and grabbing her cup. But Grissom remained where he was, his eyes still on her lips. Catherine halted, confused, but then smiled knowingly. "You okay Gil?" She asked coyly.

He blinked and then blushed as he realized what he had been doing, "Yes, let's go." Was his curt reply, contradicted by his smile.

They walked to the car in a silence that held only a tinge of awkwardness. Both were thinking of the other, and how their just friends relationship had been teetering towards the "more than" stage lately. Catherine snuck a glance his way as he drove, and smiled to see he looked lost in thought as well. She didn't know exactly what had started it, but it was as if all of a sudden the friction she usually felt in Grissom's presence had been heightened to a new level. There had even been times where his hand had lingered on her arm, or they had looked at each other and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to kiss her just as badly as she did him. Catherine felt her smile widen as she thought about the dinner they had planned for tonight. She had a feeling they may finally take a step towards the next level.

Grissom broke the silence as the pulled up to a nice middle class home, complete with blue shutters and perfectly mowed grass. "Home, sweet home," he deadpanned, shutting the engine off and stepping out, Catherine following suite.

Catherine took in the all too perfect look of the place as they stepped under the crime tape and onto the porch. "Well, this doesn't seem like your typical crime spot." She commented, pushing her glasses up on her head as they stepped into the shade in front of the door. Grissom chose not to comment as they had stepped inside to see Brass and a distraught looking man standing in the living room just to the left of the entryway.

"I-I came home and she…" the man seemed to struggle for words, his shaking hand running through his hair, "she was on the floor, there was blood all over…" It was here he broke off sobbing heavily. Grissom and Catherine approached cautiously, but Brass caught sight of the pair and met them halfway, giving the grieving husband a moment to collect himself.

"That's Ned Morgan," Brass informed them, making sure to keep his voice quiet enough so Ned couldn't hear, "he claims he came home from work to find his wife Susan in the shower. It looks like she slipped and hit her head on the towel rack, but we can't be sure."

"That's why we're here," Grissom said with a humorless smile.

Catherine shifted from her right foot to the left, eager to put down the heavy crime kit she was holding. "Which way to the bathroom?" She asked. Brass pointed them down the hall and they nodded, both setting off to evaluate the scene.

They entered the bathroom to see Susan Morgan, body on the bathroom floor, clad in a frilly pink bathrobe that was now stained with the blood pooled around her head. Catherine set her kit down with a sigh and walked carefully around the body, her heels clicking softly on the tiled floor of the spacious shower, and bent down by the victims head, examining the wound more closely. Grissom chose to survey the scene, his eyes systematically scanning the room, searching for any sign of abnormality.

Catherine pulled out her camera and began snapping photos as she spoke, "The abrasion on her head seems to be consistent with the shape of the towel rack." She turned towards it and began documenting the rack as well. "and the blood here definitely indicates it was what did the damage." Grissom walked over, looking over her shoulder. Catherine felt the same bizarre buzz of energy begin to course through her at his close presence.

"The spatter on the wall seems to be consistent with an accidental blow," Grissom chimed in. Catherine turned her head, mouth open as she was about to ask him a question, but stopped as she found herself just inches away from his face. He looked at her as well, and she felt the overwhelming urge to bring her face forward those few extra inches. But the knowledge of where they were and what they were evaluating brought her back to reality.

She cleared her throat and continued with her question, turning back to the scene, "Do you think we can rule out a homicide then?"

"We'll need to process the blood stains and all over scene more closely, but I think it's safe to say the scene is secure."

Catherine nodded in agreement and then reluctantly stepped away from him. "I'll go let Brass know." Grissom watched her as she walked away, and despite his surroundings, he found himself smiling.

Catherine found Brass, looking grim-faced as he spoke with Detective Vega, the husband now sobbing quietly on the couch. "It's looking like an accidental death," Catherine informed both the officers.

"That's great, but the husband won't leave for questioning. We're going to have to take him out in cuffs if he doesn't pull himself together," Brass said, without any sort of empathy.

Catherine looked towards Ned and then back at Brass, "He's been through a lot today, he just lost his wife, I think questioning could wait a few more hours. You and Vega still need to get statements from the neighbors, and Grissom and I can keep an eye on him while we process."

"You sure? He's still a prime suspect."

"Yeah, Gil's already confirmed the accident theory, I see no reason to see him as a threat." Catherine's gaze shifted over to Ned Morgan, his sobs had subsided and he was now staring at the far wall with a hollow look in his eyes. Her eyes turned back to Brass, "Give the poor guy a break Jim."

Brass shrugged and nodded, closing his notepad before walking out with Detective Vega, reminding Catherine to call if there was even the slightest trouble. Once the door had closed behind the cops Catherine turned to Ned.

"Mr. Morgan," she said quietly, "my partner and I need to finish up our processing and then we'll be out of your hair."

He looked up at her slowly, "Did you find anything else?" He asked hoarsely.

"No, nothing more than what you've heard already." Ned nodded at her words, but said nothing else. Catherine took it as her cue to leave, and made her way back to Grissom.

"How's the husband?" Grissom asked as she entered.

"Not well, Brass and Vega left to interview the neighbors, and I said we'd keep an eye on him."

His head shot up, "Do you think that's safe?"

Catherine sighed and put her hands on her hips, "We know it was an accident, and the poor guy is in shock. He just lost his wife, I can't imagine what he must be feeling. If anything were to happen to y-" She stopped, startled by the direction in which her words had taken. She cleared her throat and turned to her kit, fumbling with its contents, trying to find something to distract herself.

Grissom opened his mouth, wanting to ask her what she meant, and hoping he knew the answer, but didn't. Instead he turned back to his work, disappointed he had let the opportunity go by.

**A/N: Ok, this chapter was mainly set-up and such, but the next chapter will start with the drama right away. Please R&R, even if this opening chapter may be a bit lame.**


	2. Chapter 2

#They hadn't been working for more than 20 minutes when Grissom's cell phone pierced the uncomfortable silence, causing both to jump. "Grissom… I'll be right there." He hung up and then looked at Catherine, "There's a double homicide over at the New York, New York, Vartann needs me to go over."

"Okay," Catherine said, turning back to her work.

"You're coming too, accident or not I'm not letting you stay with him alone."

Her eyes narrowed, "I've been alone at a scene hundreds of times before. We can't leave and then come back later, that wouldn't be fair to the husband."

"Then I'll wait."

"You can't just forget the other scene."

"You're not staying here alone."

Catherine sighed, "If I call Vega will it make you feel better?"

"Yes. I'll wait-"

"No, it will take him five minutes tops to get here, you need to leave. It's my final offer," she said, crossing her arms, but her smile broke her tough façade.

"Fine," he sighed, smiling too, "You do drive a hard bargain Miss Willows." She laughed and went back to work as Grissom gathered his kit. "Don't forget to call Vega, and call me if there's even the slightest problem." He requested as he headed out the door. She agreed and watched him walk away, pleased by his concern. Catherine had never intended to call Vega, she only had a few more technical things to finish up before she was done and he and Brass should be back within the hour, so there was really no pint in bothering him yet.

Twenty minutes later she was finally beginning to pack her equipment when something caught her eye. She stood slowly and walked to the wall on the side opposite the body, pulling out her flashlight and examining a red drop on the wall. Her stomach plummeted as she got a closer look, and her eyes flickered nervously to the open door. Shaking, she fumbled for her phone and crossed to the door, closing it quietly as she called Grissom.

He answered on the second ring.

"Cath?" His tone held concern, and rightly so.

"Gil," she practically whispered, "I found an arched blood drop on the wall in front of her feet. Gil, I think it's cast off spatter."

"Shit, I'm coming right now!" Grissom said, a fearful urgency overtaking his usual monotone. Catherine had calmed down a bit from the initial shock and tried to focus on the task at hand to keep her cool.

"I'm going to try luminal," she said, her voice steadier now.

"No, Cath listen to me, lock the door and stay in there, don't let him get suspicious."

"He's still out there playing the grieving husband," her voice held bitterness, and a tinge of self-loathing for buying into it so easily. "I need to know," she continued, "I'll go crazy just waiting here." As she said this she heard the muffled sounds of sirens blaring on the other end of the line, and took comfort in knowing Grissom was hurrying.

"Catherine, please, just stay put," Grissom was now pleading, and it was almost enough to make her obey. Almost.

"I won't make a peep Gil." As she said this she crossed back to the door, locking it quietly. "I've locked the door, you'll be here soon." As Catherine shut out the lights and prepared to spray the luminal, her cell propped up to her ear with the help of her shoulder, she heard an angry sigh.

"You never called Vega did you?" His question went unanswered, however, because it was at that moment that Catherine gasped.

"Fuck, it looks like a slasher film in here," she breathed, taking in the glowing back spatter covering the walls. She picked up her camera, snapping pictures quickly, before the luminal disappeared. "Gil, this was definitely murder… shit, I'm an idiot!"

A sudden knock on the door startled her and muffled whatever response Grissom had given. "What's going on in there?" Catherine felt her stomach sink even lower at the husband's words.

"Don't open the door!" Grissom yelped in her ear.

"Wow, thanks Gil," she hissed back. She then raised her voice to reply to Ned, "Nothing, just some last minute evaluations, I'm almost done." She held her breath hoping he'd buy it.

"You're doing analysis with the lights off?" He sounded disbelieving.

"Yes, it's the only way certain tests work." She hoped his knowledge of forensics was limited and he didn't know exactly what test she had been running.

"What's happening?" Grissom asked.

"Noth-" she began to say, but at that moment she heard the sound of a key scraping in a lock and tried to sprint over to the light switch to hide her luminal discovery, but was too late. Ned walked in and saw the glowing display of his murderous deed. Catherine hid her cell phone behind her back and out of sight and flipped on the light switch, the glowing stains disappearing.

Ned turned towards her, his eyes devoid of the grief and torture she had seen before, and now reflected only cold harshness, "So, you know." It wasn't a question.

**A/N: Hehe, I know, I'm evil. Perhaps a little cliff hanger could garner some more reviews… :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am sooooooooooooooo sorry this update took me so long! I don't even have an excuse because I haven't had anything to do, I've just been in a super writing slum. I forced myself to write now though, because I got my wisdom teeth taken out and have been laying around with nothing to do for the past 2 days. So, if this chapter seems a little off, I blame the pain meds. Hehe… anyway, read on. And, just a little heads up, this chapter gets kinda violent. **

"Mr. Morgan," Catherine tried to keep her voice calm, but she knew it was as shaky as her clenched fists, "no more blood has to be spilled. If you comply now, it will only help you later-"

"Don't think you can talk your way out of this Catherine," he snapped as he began to walk slowly towards her.

"Why did you kill you wife Mr. Morgan?" She inquired in an effort to keep him talking. It seemed to work, and he stopped walking to sneer at the question.

"When you walk in on your wife having an affair with your best friend it can drive a person to do rash things. I of course, acted like I accepted her apology, and then beat her over the head with a towel rack." His lifeless tone was mirrored only by his dark vacant eyes. "I knew that Rob would know the real truth, and I knew the idea that he had caused it would kill him."

"Ned, you don't need to tell me about the anger a person feels about being on the wrong end of an affair," Catherine was getting desperate, thinking of anything she could say to sway him, "and as far as killing me goes, it would only make matters ten times worse, you could always plead temporary insanity, or-"

"Don't try and pull that 'we can relate to each other' bullshit with me honey," Ned scoffed as he began to advance towards her once more. "and as for your solution, if it wasn't for you in the first place I would have been home free. Now, I don't really care who I take down with me."

Catherine knew he was done talking and she began backing away, her eyes darted around madly for anything she could defend herself with. Of course she picked today not to bring her gun, and her kit was clear across on the other side of the room, so tools were out of the question as well. Her frantic thinking was halted as her thighs hit the countertop. She discretely placed her phone in the sink, not wanting to alert Ned that help was on the way, and clenched her fists, ready to fight back.

She saw Ned pull his arm back to strike and ducked just before he made contact, causing him to hit the mirror behind her, cutting his hand as it shattered. She used his momentary distraction to stomp clean and hard on his instep and then deliver a solid elbow thrust to his stomach before hightailing it to the door.

"You bitch!" Ned cried out in pain and rage, and he caught up to her easily, his quick recovery as he kicked her legs out from underneath her as she neared the door caught her completely by surprise and she cried out as she flew to the floor, hitting the side of her face hard against the tiles.

* * *

The moment Grissom heard Ned's voice on the other end of the line he was sure his heart had stopped beating. He could hear Catherine, trying to stay calm and talk him out of it, but his insides had turned to ice. He picked up his radio and called in to Brass, "Jim! You and Vega need to get back to the Morgan's ASAP, Catherine's in trouble."

"Shit! What the hell happened?" Brass radioed back a second later, "Vega and I are on the other side of town, talking to the vic's sister."

"Fuck!" Grissom yelled, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel in frustration. "Get any cop you can over there, the husband did it Jim, and now he's going after Catherine." His conversation with Brass was quickly forgotten, however, as he heard the sound of breaking glass on the other end of the line. His breathing started again as he heard Ned cry out, apparently the one who had been hurt. _Please Cath, please just make it out of there._ He silently begged. He heard Ned yell at her, and then Catherine cried out. Grissom felt his insides contorting as he listened for any sign that she was okay.

* * *

Catherine's blow to the floor caused her to black out for a few moments, the back of Ned's hand as it collided with her face was her harsh snap back to reality. She felt his large rough hands engulf her forearms as he lifted her into the air before 240 pounds of weight crushed her body against the wall. She felt her vocal chords straining to cry out, but her crushed lungs could not supply the necessary oxygen.

"How does it feel," Ned hissed into her ear, "to know that your partner left you, unprotected, with a killer?" Catherine tried to respond, say something to let Grissom know she didn't blame him for what was inevitably waiting for her, but she could only manage to gasp in response, choking for breath. She suddenly felt herself being flung to the floor, her body sprawling across the tile as she coughed and allowed air to properly enter her lungs once more.

She was only offered a few seconds of recovery, before feeling a booted foot collide with her ribcage, sending pain shooting throughout her entire body. Her vision began to tunnel as blackness threatened to engulf her. She head the muffled sound of something metal, being picked up, and knew the final blow was only moments away.

Catherine tried to lift herself up, twisting to see Ned, back turned momentarily to her as he picked up a large pipe in the corner of the bathroom. Although her body was screaming at her, Catherine tried to crawl towards her kit. Her actions were halted by Ned's chuckle, and she turned to see him laughing openly at her.

"I do admire your determination," he mocked, walking towards her with his weapon, "but I'm afraid you are out of luck." As Ned raised his hand back to strike a shot suddenly rang out, echoing in the tiny bathroom, and causing Catherine to yelp in surprise. Grissom entered the bathroom seconds later, looking in shock from the man he had just shot to the gun in his hand.

"Gil!" Catherine cried, tears of relief beginning to stream down her face. Grissom took one look at Catherine, and any thoughts of doubt he had felt died, and he dropped the gun, rushing to her side.

"Catherine, are you okay?" He asked, his hands shaking as he held her.

"I'm alive," she managed to get out, but her hand went immediately to her stomach. "I think my ribs are broken."

"If I help you, do you think we can make it back to my car? Brass will be here soon, and I think we should get you out of here." Catherine nodded and Grissom helped her stand, almost completely carrying her out the door.

"Gil, I just want you to know, I don't-" Catherine's words were cut off by the sound of the gun behind them being cocked. They both turned in time to see Ned, standing, holding Grissom's gun. The shot rang out. At that moment one of them managed to push the other out of the way, taking the bullet for themselves. Brass and the other cops came crashing into the house, rendering Ned incapacitated in seconds, but the damage had already been done. The uninjured party crawled over to the other, pulling them into their arms.

"Catherine," Grissom sobbed as he held her.

**A/N: Yes, another great place to end a chapter! It's almost as evil as my lack of quick updating. But I seriously promise that the next chapter will be up in a reasonable time, I will chain myself to my computer if I have to! :D**

**Review if you think I'm cruel and should post the next chapter really soon! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Before I jump into the chapter I just wanted to quickly fill in a few holes that I didn't want to mention in the story, because it may have detracted from the drama. Grissom is able to visit her in the ICU, because he's on her emergency contact list, and Lindsey is at home with Catherine's sister, because she's young in this fic, and probably wouldn't be able to handle seeing her mother in such a condition. **

Looking back on that moment Grissom's memory seemed to work only in frame-by- frame with ten second gaps in between. The shot from the gun. A push to the ground. Looking up to see Catherine… He could remember holding her. Brass pulling him away. He couldn't remember if he fought back. He rode with her in the ambulance, almost regretting it as the extent of the damage was revealed to him. How long he had been sitting where he was now, in the waiting room of the hospital ICU, he couldn't say. He found the scenario playing on a continuous shuffle in his brain, among these images was a thought that had been plaguing him since the long ambulance ride. What if he lost her?

The question evoked feelings he wouldn't wish on anyone, not even Ecklie. Grissom felt as though he was in a constant state of alert, which, over time, began to make his insides ache from their incessant fear-induced contortion. He sat now, bent over with his hands engulfing his face, as if attempting to shield him from reality. He couldn't lose her.

Grissom of course was feeling terrified and distraught over the thought that Catherine might not make it. But there was another feeling that had managed to burrow in the back of his mind. Guilt. Guilt about many things. The customary guilt a survivor of an accident feels for the person who was injured. Guilt for not checking to make sure Ned was down for good. Guilt that he wasn't the one who pushed her away. The most dominant form of guilt, however, was a regretful kind.

Grissom began to look back on the countless times Catherine had made him laugh, or argued with him, or even when they made eye-contact and found themselves staring for a few moments before resuming conversation again. Each time Grissom wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Of course he never did. He never even attempted to pry and see if she may reciprocate those feelings. It wasn't until this day in fact that they had taken any sort of step to something more. Grissom felt bitter tears bite at his eyes, but he tried to hold them in. Why on Earth had he waited for so long? And now it could be too late, the opportunity snatched away for good.

"Mr. Grissom?" The sound of his name brought him out of his reverie like a life guard pulling someone out of a pool. It was as if his head had surfaced and all the noise and commotion of the world around him came to life once more.

"Is she okay?" Grissom's feeble and hoarse voice was barely heard.

The doctor looked into his desperate, blood-shot eyes and dropped his gaze to the ground, taking a breath before shattering the man before him. "I'm afraid Miss Willows' condition is still very unstable. I don't want to sugar coat this…," the doctor took a moment to put a hand on Grissom's shoulder, continuing with a soft, regretful tone, "she probably won't make it through the night."

Grissom felt numb. He didn't find himself yelling at the doctor to do something, or breaking down in sobs. He just felt nothing. "Can I see her?" The doctor nodded and walked with him to Catherine's room, waiting until they had reached the door before placing his hand on Grissom's shoulder again, giving it a comforting squeeze before stepping back to give him a moment alone with her.

As soon as he walked in the room and saw her, lying on the bed, face and arms covered in soft bruises, hooked up to countless machines, looking so fragile, Grissom felt his control begin to slip. He walked unsteadily to her side and bent down on his knees in front of her bed, reaching out a trembling had to take hers in his. He took a moment to look at her. The thought that this would probably be the last time he would see her was too much. He felt himself rejecting the idea, shoving it aside, saying there was another answer. But as Grissom felt his held-back tears begin to slide down his cheeks he knew his mind was accepting what his heart just couldn't allow. He reached out and ran his fingers gently through her hair, his tears falling faster with the contact.

"Cath," he began, his voice cracking, "I am so sorry." It was as though his tears were a water valve that had broken and was now on a continuous soft flow. "You should have never been in that situation, and I should have protected you when I had the chance-" Grissom broke off for a moment, trying to keep his emotions in check long enough to get out what he needed to. "Please Cath, please don't give up. You're so strong, the strongest person I know. I promise, if you make it I'll never take you for granted again, never miss an opportunity to tell you how much I love you. I know you can get through this Catherine. I know you can." It was here Grissom felt himself reach the breaking point and sobs racked his body, echoing throughout the room.

The high pitched cry of Catherine's heart monitor a moment later overpowered the sound of his tears, and Grissom had only a moment of shock and surprise before nurses and the doctor came rushing in. He felt hands pulling him gently away, trying to get him out of the room. But he could still see them, hovered over her, and caught sight of the defibrillator paddles before he was out of the room. He stood outside, stunned while the piercing ring from the heart monitor tore at his insides as he begged to hear it beeping again. He could feel blood pooling in his head, felt himself sway. He sat down outside the room to steady himself, heart pounding as he waited.

Suddenly the commotion stopped. The high pitched ring was the only noise emanating from the room. Grissom let out his held breath, and felt it escape as a sob as realization hit him. He brought a hand up to his eyes as he felt himself crying as he never had before, tears of regret and anguish consuming him completely.


End file.
